


Would That I Had Never

by blue_jack



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Dark Tony Stark, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24642313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: Short angsty fills for The SteveTony Games.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 34
Kudos: 58
Collections: Team Angst





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll post chapter-specific warnings in the author notes before each fill.
> 
> For the prompt: Alcoholism
> 
> Warnings: Alcoholism, violence, Steve has nightmares about killing Tony, depression, no happy ending
> 
> Word count: 365

The first time he drinks is right after he wakes up from a nightmare. He’s dreamed about killing Tony before, but never quite like this, crushing the arc reactor with the edge of his shield, Tony getting paler and paler as he gasps, clawing at his chest, Steve gloating over him, watching him die.

It’s not how it happened, not how it’d _ever_ happen, not in any lifetime. But his subconscious doesn’t believe it. 

Bucky’s safe with T’Challa, but Sam and Natasha are down the hall, and he knows if he knocked on either of their doors, they’d get up and keep him company. He also knows, however, that it won’t help. He won't fall asleep again for hours, if he manages to at all, and the nightmares just keep coming back. He hasn’t slept well in over a month. He’s so anxious about what he might see after he closes his eyes that he’s been going to bed later and later, and when he wakes up, he feels worse than ever, his body heavy and slow, his head aching.

He honestly can’t say why he goes searching for a bottle. It’s not like he can get drunk.

Maybe there’s just something comforting about the motions, the rhythm of pouring and then tossing it back, as if he’s accomplishing something in the dead of night when everything around him is too quiet but still too loud. Maybe he just likes the bitter taste on his tongue that’s almost its own kind of punishment—at least until his taste buds go numb. Who knows?

He definitely doesn’t know why he does it again a few nights later.

By the fifth time it happens, he’s gone out and gotten a few bottles of Everclear 190 proof. They’re expensive, and the taste is terrible, but if he chugs them, one right after another after another, then for a little while, it gets … not better, no, but maybe quieter? Definitely slower, all his thoughts pausing in their mad rush, and he gets to pretend for a few precious moments that he never saw the look on Tony’s face when he found out Steve had kept the truth from him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Wedding Ring + Unreliable Narrator + Identity Porn
> 
> Warnings: I'm going to put these at the bottom for those who don't want to be spoiled
> 
> Word count: 900

Tony almost never takes off his ring, not to do dishes, or work in his lab, or shower, or make love to Steve. He fiddles with it throughout the day, twirling it absentmindedly around his finger, and Steve’s caught him staring at it more than once, his thoughts obviously far away.

Steve hadn’t thought much about it at first. It’s a plain, silvery ring, and it sits on the fourth finger of his right hand, just a bit loose. Tony’s worn it from the first day that he’d barged into Steve’s life, bumping into him as Steve was leaving his apartment building and spilling his iced coffee over the both of them.

Tony had been so apologetic and horrified, even as he stood there dripping coffee down his expensive fitted suit while Steve’s own clothes, a holey T-shirt that had seen better days and a pair of ratty shorts, had barely been splashed. Tony had ignored the slow destruction of his suit and used his single napkin to try and blot at a few spots on Steve’s arm. Steve had been immediately charmed.

One thing had led to another, and here they are, a year later and living together, and Steve’s been so happy, happier than he’d ever thought possible until—

Tony almost never takes off his ring. Except for every now and then when he cleans it.

Steve’s getting ready to go on a run, and Tony steps away to get a new bottle of cleaning solution right as Steve’s walking by, and the afternoon sun shines on the ring just right for him to see there’s something engraved on the metal.

He picks it up out of idle curiosity, surprised by how heavy it is, but then he freezes in shock when he tilts the ring enough to see the word “Beloved” in elegant cursive font.

The sound of Tony’s footsteps makes him jump, and Steve almost drops the ring before putting it back on the cleaning cloth. He yells hoarsely, “Be back in a bit!” and leaves the room, the house, and then he runs for miles and miles and tries to come up with a good reason why Tony would have something that Steve now realizes looks an awful lot like a wedding ring.

Tony’s parents are alive, so it’s not his father’s, and there’s the possibility that it could be one of his grandfathers’ rings maybe, or another relative’s, but Tony never talks about his family, so that seems unlikely. 

Surely Tony would’ve told him if he’d ever been married before. That’s not something you just forget to tell your long-term boyfriend.

Not on accident anyway.

He’s exhausted by the time he gets home, and he doesn’t call out to Tony to let him know he’s back like he normally would. He’s not angry, has no reason to _be_ angry since there might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this, but he can’t stop feeling hurt nonetheless.

Beloved. Why is Tony wearing that?

“Steve?”

He turns towards Tony’s voice without answering, and Tony takes one look at his expression and sighs, long and low.

“I shouldn’t have been so careless, I guess. It’s too bad, because you’re a lot like him, in your own way,” Tony says regretfully, and then there’s the anger, a raging fire that does nothing to warm the frigid wasteland of his heart.

“A lot like who?” he demands, and he feels sick at the thought that Tony might’ve fallen in love with him because he reminds Tony of someone else.

“I mean you’re not perfect, but you were the closest I could find on such short notice.”

For a second, it’s like he can’t breathe, the pain is so great, and he has to grab onto the counter to keep steady.

“Shit, no, sorry, I don’t mean it that way. There’s nothing _wrong_ with you,” Tony says in a way that implies the complete opposite. “You’re just not … _my_ Steve,” he tells him, touching his thumb to his ring.

“What?” he tries to say, so, so confused, and he doesn’t understand how he’s gone from being so happy and in love to feeling stupid and devastated in such a short amount of time.

Tony sighs again, and the annoyance on his face makes him almost unrecognizable. He’s never looked at Steve like that before, has always been sweet and kind, and Steve has the creeping thought that he wasn’t being kind to _him_ but to someone else. 

“Look, I do feel a little bad about all of this. You probably would’ve met your own Tony one day and been really happy together, if I hadn’t come along. I can’t give him back to you, but I did leave you a bank account with a tidy nest egg—”

“What are you—I don’t want your money!” Steve says, scrambling to follow along with what Tony’s saying and to keep himself together.

“I know you don’t. But it’s there if ever you need it.” His lips quirk. “I guess it was fate that I finished my calculations this morning. Well then. Goodbye, Steve. If it helps at all, I did love you. I just loved him more.”

There’s a burst of light, so bright that it blinds Steve for an instant, and by the time Steve can see clearly again, Tony’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: References to past MCD, stalking, and potential murder; dark!Tony; no happy ending


End file.
